I Feel Like There’s a Poem In Singing ‘Stick Season’ as I Drive Across The Colorado River While Lake Travis is at 40% Capacity On The Coolest Summer of the Rest of Our Lives While Realizing I Likely Won’t See Another Season of the Sticks…

Meeting Mothman in the Coffee Shop Is that.. Is that really him? Tall wings of luscious.. Is it feathers? Or fur? Either way, I thought he would be taller and yet I can’t look away from him or his bicycle brake eyes scanning the menu…

I Once Again Write About The Sky I haven’t seen the stars in almost four months. At least not ones that are actually in the sky above me in that moment. Instead of I see miles of orange stretching across the horizon. Not that delicious…

Congratulations on completing your fifty second Parkrun and your first at Falkirk you were the eightieth female in a field of two hundred and eight and sixth in your age category. Your time was thirty nine minutes and eighteen seconds You achieved an age score…

Texas SB 14 in Dada per Tristan Tzara’s “To Make a Dadaist Poem”, 1920 Induce or; Profiles not for health ordinary practice determined or code is age read; Safety the not (2) (4). Or procedures. By subchapter: (b) child’s or the public an to transitioning…

CW: misgendering (mention); parental estrangement Getting What You Want Isn’t Always Getting What You Want It’s funny how putting 2,218 miles between me and her and her words and their ability to nag at at my will to exist Doesn’t actually put space between me…

Morning coffee smile. Foam milk art inspires. Barista magic.

Horizon of pink. Grey droplets kiss my cheek. I rise to meet the day. Sun blooms warm. I close my eyes and dwell on thoughts of you. Returning home, sun fades on the horizon— blue and deep. Thanks for another day.

I had a bunch of tech issues this morning so I wrote a bunch of connected haikus while waiting for the router to reset WIFI, why must you foresee me like this in the time I needed you most? Laptop, why is now the moment…

A swirling stream of captured glimpses, memories highlighted with stone and shadow, wildflower mosaics burying segmented columns and headless statues. Whole universes of civilizations having risen, thrived, deepened, and fallen. Fading, fading. Long before my footsteps dared to touch, long before my mind sought to…